


(You Wanna) Date My Dad

by wakandan_wardog



Series: Tumblr Shenanigans [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Gen, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Snark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-08 04:17:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15235140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wakandan_wardog/pseuds/wakandan_wardog
Summary: "Would you ever write a fic where Bucky meets Harley?"Currently the most requested for a sequel/fic extension.





	1. Chapter 1

James slinks into the communal floor after being reassured by JARVIS that the level is clear of Avengers. He stops dead in the doorway of the living room, staring at a teenager in ratty jeans and one of Tony’s cast-off band tees. The kid has a riot of sandy-blond curls on his head, intense blue eyes fixed on the graveyard of parts scattered over the coffee table. There’s a complex amalgam of metal and wires in one hand, and a screwdriver held in the other. 

The boy, for his part, seems to give no notice of the soldier. He scowls at his hand-held creation, tongue appearing at the corner of his mouth as he twists the screwdriver and very clearly awaits a reaction. When he doesn’t get one he sighs, waving it like a conductor’s baton. “J? Make a note.”

“Of course, Young Sir.” JARVIS murmurs, sounding fonder than James has ever heard, except for maybe when he’s gently encouraging his creator to bed after a three-day inventor binge. “Consider it done.”

“You rock.” The boy murmurs happily, going at the object again. “You gonna lurk in the doorway all day, or what?” 

“What?” James blinks, stuttering into movement and then subsiding into stillness. He doesn’t want to get closer, but doesn’t want to withdraw either. 

“Tony’s out.” He continues carelessly. “Realized that there was something missing from his personal workshop and tore off to R&D. Won’t be long though? You can borrow a chair and wait, if you want. He said I wasn’t allowed to bite you. Assuming you’re James, you fit the description. I’m Harley, by the way.”

James hesitates, and then grins. “Uh, yeah.. That’s me and I’d prefer no biting… That a problem?”

“Eh.” Blue eyes dart up, fixing on the soldier at last. “J says you’re alright… And honestly I think chewing on metal would be bad for my teeth. I don’t have anything to throw at you either, so I guess I’ll have to exact revenge at a later date if I decide you deserve it.”

“What do I do in order to convince you that I don’t deserve it?” James slowly crosses the room, aiming to sit on the far side of the coffee table where he can watch the kid work. 

Harley waits until the man is about to sit on the chair opposite him before replying. “Tell me about your intentions with my dad?”

The soldier flails, almost missing the seat as he sits. “Your  _what now_?!”

The boy grins, a gesture somewhat reminiscent of Tony playing the shark in a boardroom. Suddenly, James can see it and he’s very unsettled, especially at the smug tone. 

“Oh, don’t you  _know_?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From the encouraging nudge/prompt: "that James meets Harley drabble is the greatest!? ... would you ever consider expanding that one?? "

James Barnes has known fear. In a life that spans nearly 100 years, unorthodox and interrupted as it may have been, it is impossible for him to have lived without it. He has known the fear of a child, growing up in Brooklyn. Fear of starvation, never knowing if they’ll be able to afford to put food on the table. Known fear of a drunk parent, of flying fists and the careless toss of bottles. Known the fear of illness and death, watching his best friend struggle through every cold spell, every flu, and a veritable mountain of health issues besides.

Then he was drafted into the military, and the fears of his regular life were traded in. Instead, he was forced to handle the rational sort of fear that comes from battle. Faced with the fear of seeing _Steve_ in battle, changed by science and serum and the meddling of men James still did not trust. Then he’s falling and his last conscious thoughts are fear of what will happen to Steve when James is no longer there to watch his back.

When he wakes up as the Soldier, his life and his mind are not his own. His old fears are lost, buried in the ashes of his old life. And though he may have lost it beneath the programming for the Winter Soldier, there was a different kind of fear buried beneath it all. A constant fear, a cornered-animal sort of terror that comes from a cage one cannot escape.

 

Sitting in the penthouse sitting area of Stark Tower, James is hard-pressed to recall a time in which he was more _nervous_. It should be ridiculous, all things considered. The situation itself shouldn’t be particularly stressful, except that this is Tony Stark’s _kid_. Tony Stark’s kid, in Tony’s house.

And James, maybe, sort of, kind of likes Tony Stark (a lot). So. A good impression would be desirable. Preferable. The best case scenario?

(Damn it, he’s in so much trouble.)

For James’s part, he’d honestly wanted to just walk right back out the door again. Just immediate, about face, and gone.

Instead, his brain pointed out that backing out, or flat-out bolting in the other direction, would be too blatant a retreat. In the back of his head there was an alarm going off, something about any sign of weakness in the face of a predator. So he stayed. He walked to the sofa, he sat down. He maintained eye contact. He remained perched on the edge of a leather sofa and facing down a stone-faced teenager across an ornate rug.

The boy stared at him for several minutes, and then quirked a wicked little grin that was straight out of Tony’s arsenal. (James knows, he’s memorized Tony’s expressions and that _‘I’m laughing at you and you probably wish you knew why but I’m not going to tell’_ is one of his favorites.)

“Well?” Harley asks, canting his head to one side. “You gonna answer?”

“Not sure I should.” James mumbles. “Reckon that you’re trouble, just like him.”

The idea of being just like Tony Stark was a pretty heady one. Maybe even something Harley had worked toward, in his younger years. But after a few years with Tony as his mentor his friend, his mechanic, his friend and his pseudo father figure, some of that had toned down. Now he was happy to be himself, to be Tony’s protégé, to be his adopted son.

Tony seemed pretty happy with it, too.

In response Harley flat-out grinned, a wide flash of white teeth that was distinctly smug. “You’d be right in that guess, yeah. Still, not sure why you think being quiet would spare you.”

“Seem’d that’d be the case.” The Soldier sighed, leaning back and casting a glance at the ceiling. “Guess you could say I was being hopeful.”

“Around here? That’s dangerous.” Harley goes back to tinkering with his handful of parts, hoping that the Soldier will relax a bit. “So, how d’ya know Tony?”

“Probably a bit foolish.” James reluctantly agrees, folding in on himself and staring at his hands. “You could say I’ve ruined his life… and now he’s fixing mine.”

“So, you owe him.” Harley can’t help but feel disappointed.

“Maybe, but that ain’t the reason I stick around.” Blue-grey eyes darted up, fixing on the teen’s face. “It ain’t the only reason that matters, ain’t even the best reason.”

“Yeah?” Harley leaned forward. “You feel like sharing?”

“Should I be sharin’?” He tilts his head and smiles. “Seems to me I just met you. What’s to stop ya from turnin’ around and tearin’ off to tell yer dad about it?”

“Scout’s honor, I won’t tell.” Harley does his best to make his eyes as wide and innocent as possible. “Why do you hang around?”

“You gotta be a Stark.” The Soldier huffs, sounding more fond than exasperated. “Got that way about you, no question. Somehow it seems like you won’t let it go, till I say _something_ … So maybe I like your dad.”

Tony Stark, fresh out of the elevator, stops dead.

Harley, without looking at him, leans back in his seat and grins at James, drawling a reply. “Well then… that’s not so bad.”


End file.
